


So I'm Not Good Looking?

by ziara_malik (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Comforting!Zayn, Hate, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mention of Another Social Media Website, Sick!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 08:50:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2144541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ziara_malik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Wrote the first part while listening to Sam Smith so if it gets over-emotional, it's not my fault. YOLO. Then it all goes to hell from there.</p>
    </blockquote>





	So I'm Not Good Looking?

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote the first part while listening to Sam Smith so if it gets over-emotional, it's not my fault. YOLO. Then it all goes to hell from there.

Harry takes a deep, shuddering breath as he finishes his bridge in _Moments_ , heart rate picking up in anticipation of what was to come. There's a headache trying to work its way into his system, but he won't let it, because the chorus is next, and then Zayn's solo is right after. The whole arena erupts into screams as Zayn pauses near the end of the chorus, taking a deep breath. The screams get louder as Zayn starts:

" _Flashing lights in my mind going back to the time. Playing games in the streets, kicking balls with my feet. There's a numb in my toes, standin' close to the edge. There's a pile of my clothes at the end of your bed. As I feel myself fall, make a joke of it all..."_

Harry feels himself shiver as he holds the last notes, adlib in full action. He had studied him the whole time he was singing. How the vein in his neck protrudes and his brows furrow, like he actually has to try to sound as good as he does. When in reality, the words fall so simply, so elegantly, from Zayn's full, pink lips that it makes Harry want to go back and re-do his parts until they sound as good, but they never will, and he knows that and is okay with it. Because, Zayn is perfection, and _everything_ about him is beautiful, and Harry would be dumb to think that he could come anywhere near that. 

He instantly thinks of the yin and the yang, the way the yin is uplifting light and the yang is passive darkness. They balance each other out. He wouldn't name himself as a pessimistic person, but he was real in his opinions of himself as well as others. Zayn would never say something bad about anyone (including himself) though, and because of that he was always happy, no matter how much he had to tone it down in public to keep up his goddamn "Bad Boy Persona". 

It's amazing how different they are, and that they literally switch personalities when they're in public. He feels his whole body break out into goosebumbs that he hopes were caused by the love of his life. 

They all join in for the chorus (he doesn't want to, because then he'll hear less of Zayn and more of all of them, which is okay, but Zayn's voice is beauty in waves) but Harry is, once again, not in touch with the words he's singing. Zayn's voice is still in his head, reverberating in his chest, bouncing off his ribs and echoing through the hollows where his heart is supposed to be (it's not in him, it's in Zayn's hands). 

He's lost to the lyrics but he continues singing, because he gets to hear that voice again the quicker they finish up this song. He feels a little peaky and cold now because Zayn's voice does that to you. He's well accustomed to that feeling of awe when he's anywhere in Zayn's presence.

Harry looks around at the other four boys, adrenaline pumping through through his veins. It should be making him feel energetic and powerful, but all he feels like doing is slinking off the couch he's sitting on and onto the floor to fall asleep. The screams are deafening now and he grimaces, leaning onto Zayn slightly. 

He shifts in his seat to watch Niall but keeps his head on Zayn's shoulder as Niall starts talking."You know, it's always a good feelin' when we finish a song and we hear you guys, cheerin' and everything. From up here, you all look so beautiful!" Niall grins, adjusting his earpiece. The fans start screaming again, and Harry turns to hide his face in Zayn's shoulder. Now that they're no longer singing, the headache has gotten to him and is now a full blown migraine. The older man sighs, wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulders. The latter melts into the embrace and closes his eyes.

Zayn nudges him a little because apparently, Liam has just addressed him. He sits up, gasping as his head pounds. He sways in his seat a little and Zayn grabs his waist discreetly. Something is definitely wrong. He looks all around the stage, first at Zayn, who is looking back at him with worry in his eyes, then at Louis and Niall, who are acting the fool, then to Liam, who he realises has been talking for quite a while now. He says something about a Twitter question and Harry tries to focus, because this might be something he's gonna be involved in. 

"Lads, this is a good one." Liam starts, sitting on the back of the settee as the Tweet is pulled up on the big screen. The words look jumbled and after a while, Harry stops trying to read them because it's taking a toll on him. Niall reads it out soon after. " _'In the audience's opinion who's the best looking?'_ " He says in his X-Factor announcer voice. Harry wants to giggle but he can't, because he's getting nauseous. 

He's aware of Liam saying that they would stand and the crowd would clap for who they vote for. Since Liam is already standing, he goes first. The claps are pretty loud, a few screams mixed in as well. Niall next, and they're a quarter scale quieter. Louis' were the same level. Zayn though is a whole other matter, the cheers and screams so loud that Harry feels his stomach turn. Then Zayn goes and bows, the small arena vibrating with screams. 

That was all Harry can take before he's shooting up, sprinting off the stage. He only makes it backstage before he falls to his knees, dry heaving before his stomach contents came up. The absence of Zayn's warm hand pulling his hair out his face made him break out into a cold sweat. He shivers and tries to pull himself up to wipe his mouth on the back of his hand, only to fall back and start heaving again. He gasps, then coughs as bile goes down his windpipe, effectively choking him. He sits up and coughs until he falls back against a wall, gagging and whimpering. He lets his eyes slip shut as he is lifted by someone, before he goes unconscious.

 

Harry opens his eyes and immeditately clenches them shut again, the light shocking him. He's on something soft, and he snuggles down into it. He whimpers as his stomach flips. "Hazza?" Zayn's sweet voice came from above him. Oh, so the something soft is Zayn's chest, the older man's arms wrapped around his back. He peeks an eye open and smiles a little once he sees Zayn's smile. 

"Hey," Harry croaks, wincing as his throat burned. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?" Zayn says, gently stroking Harry's hair out of his face. "My phone? I wanna see if the fans are freaking out." Harry says, small smile gracing his chapped lips. Zayn visibly blanches, tighting his grip around Harry's slender shoulders. 

"I don't think you need to..." He gulps, an undertone of possessiveness in his voice. Harry pulls back, wincing as his head pounds at the sudden movement. "Why not...?" Harry asks slowly, (slower than usual) raising his eyebrow. "Um..." Zayn trails off, biting his lip as Harry looks up and spots his phone on the table. He reaches up and grabs it, instinctively going to Twitter. The first thing he sees makes his nausea come back full-fledged.

'@reybae_nae_nae  
@Harry_Styles after hearing that @zayn_malik's cheers were gonna be undoubtibly louder than his own he just runs offstage like a little bitch! and zayn actually goes to comfort the little shit. What a waste of time.'

Harry drops his phone and flinches like it burned him, tears filling his eyes. "There's hundreds more, under the tag #HarryIsABrat." Zayn says, sadness in his voice. 

"Do t-they seriously think t-that?" Harry asks suddenly, choking on unshed tears. "Harry-" Zayn tries, only to get cut off. 

"They don't even fucking know a thing about me! They claim to be our fans but all they know is the media's opinion of us! Can't they clearly fucking see that I was about to throw up onstage?"

"Haz, just-"

"No! I can't believe that they would just jump to that fucking conclusion! It's not even fair; I could have stayed in fucking London yesterday because I was feeling poorly but no, I put on a brave face only to get critised for it! I'm so sick of all of this, Zayn! Just, why would I-" 

But Harry has to stop when he feels the bile rising in his throat and sprints off towards the bathroom, Zayn right behind him. When he falls to his knees at the toilet and starts to bring up all that he hasn't even eaten, Zayn's hand is on his back and rubbing soothing circles there. He heaves until he's weak, leaning his full body weight onto the toilet ahead of him. He sobs, feeling frustrated with both the world and his body. Zayn is shushing him and lifting him to his feet, getting him to wash his mouth out. 

Zayn helps him all the way to the bedroom before he finally breaks down, clutching at Zayn's shirt like his life depended on it. He sobs until he passes out ontop of him, and Zayn just reaches over to pull a blanket over his shivering form.

And he feels his anger bubbling a little too close to the surface as he reaches for his phone, typing a new Tweet. 

" _@Harry_Styles is better than every single one of you, and contradictary to your beliefs, he is quite humble and respectful to every single person he meets. You know nothing about him. He was about to be sick, so he ran offstage. I shouldn't even have to justify any of his actions because for him to do something like that you should obviously know its something important if you're a "fan". You're all jealous of his fame and his looks because you could never achieve what he has. All of you can fuck off_."

He doesn't even read it over and before he hits _SEND_ , satisfied when he sees similiar Tweets from the others. He looks down at where Harry's angelic face is pressed to his collarbone and thinks, _Harry Styles is the best looking person he's ever seen_.

**Author's Note:**

> Not my best work; it felt kinda Tumblr-esque to me. No offence to to Tumblr writers; I have an [account](http://www.fuck-boyharry.tumblr.com/) myself even. :/ But idk just please leave kudos and comments and if you want me to write anything for you tell me! And if it has any mistakes, tell me!


End file.
